


five centimeters per second

by everywordnotsaid



Category: Team B (Band), iKON (Kpop)
Genre: I REGRET NOTHING, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, im officially doubleb trash, this is it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:26:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywordnotsaid/pseuds/everywordnotsaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanbin doesn't know if Jiwon's ever coming back but he'll wait for him anyways, because isn't that what love is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be two chapters long because the story kind of ran away with me...

He meets him in early April, when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom. He’s walking home from school, and his mother told him to come straight back but with the smell of spring, and sunlight in the air it’s easy to forget her words. There’s a cliff on the path from his school to his home, with an edge that stretches just far enough that when Hanbin stands on the edge he can’t see the rocky beach beneath his feet. He sits there now; an orchard of cherry trees behind him and the ocean and sky stretching vast and blue in front of him. When he sits here he likes to pretend that he’s sitting on the edge of the world, feet dangling into emptiness. Delicate pink petals dance and spin their way past him and he closes his eyes and lets the wind tangle his hair and whip his breath away.

 

The voice that sounds in his ear makes him jump so hard he almost topples off the cliff.

 

“Five seconds per centimeter.”  

 

He turns and sees a boy, maybe his age or a little older, leaning over him. The sun is behind him, silhouetting him till all Hanbin can see is dark hair and a smile wide and wild.

 

“Thats how fast cherry blossoms fall.”

 

And he just stares, mouth gaping and eyes wide till the other kid throws his head back and laughs, wisps of hair glowing gold around the boys face  (and little 8 year old Hanbin had wondered if this was how angels looked)

 

“I’m Jiwon! Watcha doing?”

 

Hanbin isn’t really quite sure what to say so he just mumbles

 

“I’m...I’m sitting.”

 

Jiwon flops down beside him and stretches out his arms.

 

“Y’know, sitting out here feels almost like sitting at the end of the world.”

 

All Hanbin can do is nod furiously and wonder at the sunlight boy sitting next to him.

 

After that, he and Jiwon are together more than they’re apart. As it turns out Jiwon’s parents bought the house just down the street from Hanbin’s so they become neighbors of sorts. Spring turns to summer, and summer fades to fall. The cherry trees blossom and wilt and cover the ground with pale pink snow. Through spring and summer and fall it’s Jiwon and Hanbin, Hanbin and Jiwon. That’s all there is, thats all he needs.

 

Jiwon is full of random little facts, they’ll be sitting silently on the cliff by the sea and Jiwon will turn to him and say

 

“Did you know that the fur of polar bears is actually clear not white?”

 

Then turn away to stare into the distance. At first Hanbin thought he was showing off, but after a while he realized it’s just Jiwon (as much Jiwon as the shape of his eyes, the curve of his lip, the lines of his face)  It’s the lightest species of owl in the world, the color of polar bears fur. The average speed of a falling cherry blossom petal. That's Jiwon. And that's how fast Hanbin falls in love with him, five centimeters per second until there’s nowhere left to fall.

 

And he didn’t even really know he was falling in love, not then. He just knew that Jiwon had taken up residence in a part of his heart he didn’t even know existed, know he loves him in a different way than he loves his parents, or his cat, or his friends at school. He doesn’t love him more or less just different. He loves Jiwon like he loves the sun and moon and stars. He doesn’t realize what that means until much later.

 

Sophomore year of highschool Jiwon’s mother gets sick. It’s starts out as little things, she’s tired more often, loses weight, whenever he goes over he sees a new bruise spreading across her fair skin. They don’t even find out anythings wrong till she goes in for a routine check up. The diagnosis is Myelofibrosis. It’s a rare blood disorder that causes scarring in the tissues of the bone marrow and, eventually, death. Hanbin really doesn’t understand much of what it means except that it makes her really sick and now Jiwon looks sad all the time.

 

They’re hanging out at Hanbin’s house after school one day, his dad is still at work and his mom is out running errands so they’re alone . Hanbin’s wrestling with his math homework, Jiwon is sitting on the floor reading.

 

“Did you know in 50% of people with Myelofibrosis there is a distinct difference in the JAK2 gene? It’s the gene in charge of producing the number of red blood cells being made by bone marrow.”

 

He’s doing the Jiwon thing again but this time it feels wrong, it sounds wrong. There’s something flat about his voice, something dead. It doesn’t sound like Jiwon.

 

“There’s different risk levels with PMF, it can depend on a lot of things. Like white blood cell count. The average person levels out at around 10,000 white blood cells per microliter. You know what my moms is? 14,000. That puts her in the high risk territory.”

 

And Hanbin can hear Jiwon’s voice growing thicker, hears the tears building up and it’s like somebody’s sitting on his chest.

 

“Jiwon, stop.”

 

Jiwon continues on like he didn’t even hear him, staring straight ahead at nothing with that same dead tone in his voice.

 

“In low risk patients symptoms can usually be controlled for 10+ years”

 

“Please stop. Don’t do this to yourself.”

 

“High risk patients like mom, survival rates decrease dramatically. Maybe a few years. Maybe a few months.”

 

And now Jiwon’s voice is breaking like glass and Hanbin can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t know how to make the sadness go away, doesn’t understand why Jiwon’s mom got sick or how to make her better or why good people are the ones who hurt sometimes but he knows himself and he knows Jiwon and so he takes him in his arms and hugs him tight. For a second he’s stiff and cold and Hanbin almost lets go, but then he feels something snap and Jiwon folds into him, arms clutching at his shirt and face buried in Hanbin’s shoulder. They sit there together, all pain and hope and fear and Jiwon cries as Hanbin holds him. They sit there and Hanbin wonders what went so wrong with the world that he’s here with Jiwon falling to pieces in his arms.

 

He doesn’t know how long they sit like that, skin against skin. Long enough for Jiwon’s sobs to turn to sniffles, for sniffle to turn to gasping breathes, and finally for silence. They sit and Hanbin can feel Jiwon’s butterfly heart against his chest and for some reason it make it hard for him to breathe. And just when Hanbin thinks the worst is over, Jiwon looks up at him with red swollen eyes and whispers so quietly it’s deafening

 

“I’m leaving.”

 

And suddenly Hanbin’s stomach feels like ice.

 

In Seoul they have a new treatment for Myelofibrosis, some sort of radiotherapy. Not something offered here in Uljin. Jiwon doesn’t know exactly when they’re moving, they still need to sell the house and find a place in Seoul but that almost makes it worse. Now there’s an uncertain expiration date on their friendship, always hovering between them every time they see each other is the unspoken fear that it might be the last time.

 

And as selfish as it is sometimes Hanbin hates Jiwon’s mother, hates her for her illness, for making Jiwon sad, for taking him away. But then he see’s the way she looks at Jiwon, so full of love and tenderness and heartbreak (like maybe she’s already a little bit gone, like maybe she already knows how this will end) and guilt rises in his throat like bile.

 

He and Jiwon have had the same homeroom since they started high school, luck or fate or a flash of Jiwon’s smile at the counselor could have been the reason. It’s a Thursday and Jiwon is late, which isn’t that unusual (he’s always had a tendency to sleep through his alarm) and so Hanbin isn’t too worried. As the minute hand on the clock ticks by later and later though the emptiness of the desk beside him grows and grows until it’s all he can see. He goes to the bathroom and calls Jiwon, crouched with his back pressed to the off-white wall of the stall and a sick feeling in his stomach. The phone rings and rings and rings and the dial tone echoes against his skull.

 

He sits for another hour with that empty desk and sick feeling and then he can’t anymore. He can feel it, feel the wrongness in the absence and the silence and there’s something in the air that won’t let him be still. It’s like that feeling you get when you know you’re forgetting something important but you can’t remember what it is. He stands, chair clattering loudly in the room full of the flipping of pages and scratching of pencils. Everyone turns to stare, the teacher already opening her mouth. He cuts her off bowing hurriedly.

 

“I have to go. I’m very sorry.”

 

And then he’s grabbing his bag off the table and running, through the halls and out the door and across the grey concrete parking lot. He already knows the path to take, he’s walked it a hundred times before. He doesn’t even have to think about each step, feet pounding rhythmically into the ground and the sound echoes in his ears like the thumping of a heart. He pushes harder and harder his breath ragged in his chest.The ocean breeze tears at his cheeks and force tears to his eyes and his lungs burn and crumple but still he runs. He knows he’s too late before he even rounds the last bend. Too late for what he’s not sure but the certainty settles heavily in his stomach and he skids and falls, dirt and rocks slipping beneath his feet as the gravel tears at his pants. He stumbles to his feet, his legs feel slow and heavy and uncoordinated but he forces them to move. Ignoring the stinging in his knees he  runs panic winding its way up his throat.  When he turns the corner there’s nothing, just sky and ocean and a folded piece of paper tucked underneath a stone.

 

With trembling legs he walks and with shaking hands he picks up the letter and with a shivering heart he begins to read.

 

_Dear Hanbin,_

 

_First of all I’m sorry: I’m a coward. I couldn’t bear to say goodbye to you, couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes. I know it’s selfish and I hope you can forgive me for this but otherwise I don’t know if I would be able to leave. I think this is the hundredth draft of this letter, finding the right words is a lot harder than I thought it would be. You always were the one who was good with this sort of stuff, I bet you could write a beautiful letter (much better than this one anyways). I still can’t believe I’m leaving Uljin, it’s been my home for so long now. I’m going to miss so much about this place. I’m going to miss the cherry blossoms trees, all our friends from school, and that stupid dog in the yellow house that always barks at us when we walk home, I’m going to miss the quiet winters and green springs. I’m going to miss Minyoung Seonsangnim even if she always was telling us to be quiet. But most of all I’m going to miss sitting here with you and watching the ocean every day after school. I keep telling myself this will be an adventure, that Seoul will be new and exciting and different but the truth is I can’t bear to go. I might  sound confident but I can’t stop my hands from shaking right now. I know I won’t be able to find anybody like you Hanbin. You’re my best friend in the whole world, you’re my brother.  Even now as I write this I’m stalling, like maybe if I don’t finish I’ll never have to leave. Silly thoughts I guess, everything does have to come to an end sometime. But don’t worry, this won’t be our end I can feel it! And anyway’s for every end there has to be another beginning. I mean, a  friendship as strong as ours won’t be ended by a couple hundred miles right! We can write each other letters, haven’t you always wanted a pen pal? I’ve even left you stamps for your first one so you have no excuse not to write! We’ll see each other again someday, so don’t be to sad. This isn’t goodbye forever after all. I feel like this is a good place to leave this letter, it’s where we first met. Do you remember it Hanbin? You’re face was so surprised, I was afraid you were going to fall off the cliff! And we’ve spent so much time here, I think the town should name it after us: The Hanwon Cliff. Sounds pretty good doesn’t it! When my mom first got sick I used to come out here alone a lot. I’d look out at the ocean with all it’s power and all it’s beauty and it made me feel small, but in a good way. Did you know there’s around 321,003,271 cubic miles of water in the ocean? That’s a lot of water, and we’re just a speck compared to it, and yet we all have lives as complex and rich as the oceans. We have infinities inside ourselves Hanbin. Coming out here makes me remember that just like the ocean rises and falls so will we. And just like the ocean we will continue, we will survive, we will live our infinities. If you’re ever missing me just come here and close your eyes and remember all of the time we spent here, remember our forever. My dads calling me now, looks like it really is time to go. Let’s meet again soon, alright?_

 

_Your friend, Jiwon_

 

_P.S. If you don’t write I’m going to kick your ass!_

_P.P.S. I’ll be waiting right here in 10 years, don’t be late._

 

By the time he finishes there are tears welling in his eyes. They track wet streaks across his cheek and roll down his nose before dropping onto the letter. The ink smears and spreads and Hanbin clutches the words close to his chest.

 

“You’re such an idiot, Jiwon.”

the words are thick and sticky and he can’t help but smile as he says them, even if it tears a little at his heart when he does.

 

He looks out at the ocean, cherry blossoms land on his cheeks like rain.

 

He sits there as the sun falls and the air chills, sits till the sky and sea are one dark blur. Then he stands and walks home, alone. He climbs the stairs to his room and rummages through his closet till he finds an empty shoebox. On it he writes a date in thick black letters. Folding the letter carefully, he places it inside. Then he tears a sheet out of his notebook, sits at his desk and starts to write.

 

When Jiwon leaves he leaves a hole in Hanbin’s life. The empty desk, empty house, the lonely walks back to his house. Sometimes Hanbin think it’s a hole that’s never going to go away. But slowly it does, it fills with other people, other places and things, other loves. The wound heals as all wounds do, even if Hanbin doesn’t want to let it. Even if he doesn't think it ever will.

 

They write to each other often. Hanbin knows email is faster but there’s something he likes about their letters. As he reads he likes to imagine Jiwon writing them, the way he chews on his pen when he thinks, the moments he stopped to laugh. He sees Jiwon in each character, sees the way his hand moves and hesitates in each line and blotchy stroke and it makes him feel a little less apart. Sometimes he even imagines he can smell Jiwon’s scent in the paper, holds it in his hands and knows Jiwon’s held it in his. With these letters there is a real tangible connection between them and he clings to it.

 

Jiwon tells him about Seoul. About skyscrapers and city lights and how everything is cold and hard compared to Uljin. He tells him of their new apartment (it’s much smaller than their old house, illness is expensive) and how when he watched the sunrise from the roof the other day the glass and steel of the city finally looked alive. He tells him the cherry blossoms aren’t as beautiful here, that he misses the green of home.  He’ll send him things too sometimes, tucked between the folds of paper. Subway stubs and movie tickets, pamphlets from museums and napkins with silly scribbled pictures.

 

Hanbin tells him things too. How a new family ( a young couple and their newborn baby) moved into Jiwon’s house. How Ms. Minyoung is getting married next fall. Tells hims the color of the sky by the ocean, how yesterday the smell of salt and the sea followed him almost all the way back to his house. When spring rolls around he tells him that the cherry trees are getting ready to bloom. He sends things to, not paper but things to remind him of home. A shell he found on the beach, torn out pictures of old friends from their school yearbook, a polaroid of leafy branches against a blue sky.

 

Before he knows a year has past, then two and still the letters come. The shoebox fills and fills. And Jiwon’s still gone, his absence still hurts but Hanbin’s learning to live with this. Then one day a letter comes. Hanbin opens it to find a single sheet of paper with four words written on it.

 

_My mom died yesterday._

 

And as he reads it he imagines Jiwon writing, and it breaks his heart a little. He runs his finger over the paper and feels the rough spots where tears fell and dampened the letter and he cries for Jiwon and his mother and for the world that took her away.

 

After that Jiwon doesn’t send him any letters for a few months, and Hanbin doesn’t blame him. If this is how Jiwon needs to grieve then Hanbin will let him. If moving on from this means moving on from Hanbin, he will let him no matter how tightly he wants to hold on. As the saying goes, if you love something let it go (even if you know it’s never going to come back) He never stops sending him things though, not words because this is a loss that eclipses words, and Hanbin doesn’t even know what he could say to make it better. So he says nothing. Instead he sends pictures, pictures of him and Jiwon and his mother, of  their cliff by the sea, the house where he  grew up. He doesn’t know if it helps but he figures it can’t make things worse.

 

He’s walking home from school one day and even though it’s almost summer and the cherry blossom trees are mostly bare he finds a single flower still clinging to a branch. Gently he plucks it, careful not to let any of the petals fall and carries it back with him. He wraps it in tissue paper then finds the heaviest textbook he owns and places it on top. When it’s dry and flat he takes off the book and slips it into an envelope, he writes single word.

 

_Remember._

 

A few more weeks pass. The school year creeps to a close. Graduation is a bittersweet moment for Hanbin. He’s glad he’s finished but he always thought Jiwon would be here with him when he did. He sends Jiwon graduation photos anyway and on the back writes wish you were here. The lazy heat of summer comes and still Jiwon is quiet. It isn’t till the leaves begin to turn that a letter comes in the mail.

 

_Dear Hanbin,_

_It’s been awhile since I last wrote, I’m sorry about that. After mom died I guess I kind of tried to stop feeling you know? I tried to make myself hard and cold and strong so I wouldn’t have to hurt, and part of that was not missing you. If I missed you then that meant I could miss my mom and that was to painful so I didn’t. And I got really good at pretending, that I didn’t hurt and that I didn’t care and that your letters didn’t make me want to cry. I really hated you for a while Hanbin, because every time you sent a letter it cracked a little bit of my armor. So many times I tried to throw it all away, all the pictures and letters and every time I just couldn’t do it. The one time I actually managed I felt sick all day and my dad found me in the kitchen at 2 in the morning digging through the trash trying to find them all. I guess it was never really in me to hate you. And then you sent that letter with the cherry blossom in it and that was that. You see the thing was I never really stopped feeling, I just kept it all inside and that much sadness and anger is going to be felt one way or another and when I saw that flower everything just exploded because, Hanbin, I did remember. I remembered back when mom wasn’t sick, remember how much I missed her and god it fucking hurt but before all I had was the bad memories and now I could finally see the good again. I hadn’t cried since mom died but I cried for a long long time that day. But now I think I’m ready to move on, to start over again. I don’t think I can go back to Uljin just yet. Not now and maybe not ever, I won’t be able to go back without seeing her in all the places she’s not. I can’t stay in Seoul either, I can’t stay where she died. I think I want to travel. See the world, as cliche as that is. I've got some money saved up anyways. I probably won’t be able to write as much but don’t worry I’m not giving up. I won’t ever give up on us, on you. Don’t give up either._

 

_Love, Jiwon_

 

When he finishes reading Hanbin sits for a long while. He thinks Jiwon is what would happen if someone took the sun and packed it in a human body. Loud and bright, everything spilling out the cracks because one person was never supposed to be so much. The sun isn’t supposed to be cold and hard, and neither is Jiwon. He looks out the window to where he can just see the blue of the ocean in the distance and smiles.

 

After that letters from Jiwon are sporadic.  He’ll get two in as many weeks, sometimes not a word for months. Sometimes when they do come they’re battered post cards, napkins with lines and lines of cramped spidery writing. Sometimes they’re written on the back of blurry photographs. Hanbin saves them all. They come from Paris and Rome, from Iceland and Bali and America.  Sometimes his letters to Jiwon are  sent back with ‘return to sender’ stamped on them but that doesn’t stop him from writing them. They’re in too deep now for Hanbin to give up.

 

After the summer is over Hanbin heads to university. He isn’t really sure what he wants to do but it’s something that his parents want and it doesn’t seem terrible to avoid the prospect of real life for another few years so he packs his bags and moves to Seoul. The shoebox moves from one closet to another.

 

At first Seoul is intimidating. He’s never been to a city this big before and so many people and buildings and cars are overwhelming at first. Sometimes he feels like a sardine in a can, claustrophobic in a city of 10 million. And some days he misses the ocean, feels like he’s drowning in one made of people. After a while though he adjusts, learns to live with the noise and smell and feel of Seoul, learns to get lost in the hustle and bustle of 10 million lives, to find the sound rainy days and the quiet streets that shine with lights in the night . Even learns to love it a little.

 

He likes to walk around the city to all the places that Jiwon went and when he closes his eyes he can almost imagine Jiwon standing next to him. He watches the sunrise from the top of his dorm and he can see what Jiwon meant about the city finally looking alive.

 

He’s standing in the Leeum Samsung Museum of Art in front of a painting, eyes fluttering shut and mind years in the past when he hears a voice.

 

“You know, most people have their eyes open when they look at art. I’ve heard it helps a lot with the whole seeing thing.”

 

He turns to find a boy about his age with a look that is equal parts boredom and amusement, quite an impressive combination of expressions Hanbin has to admit. He stutters through several different starts before he realizes that nothing he says is really going to help him so he ends with

 

“I guess I’ll try it next time...”

  
  


Junhoe then proceeds to wrangle his name, age, university and oddly enough favorite breakfast food and invite him to a party at his apartment later that evening all in the space of a few minutes.

 

“It’ll be low key, just my roommates and a few friends.”

 

Hanbin looks at him, eyebrow raised.

 

“We’ve known each other for 10 minutes tops and you’re already inviting me to your house. I could be a serial killer you know.”

 

Junhoe just shrugs.

 

“That’s why we have kitchen knives and pepper spray. Anyways, you seem like an interesting guy.”

 

Junhoe scribbles an address on a rumpled receipt and shoves it into Hanbin’s pocket. Then he’s off with a nod and a two fingered salute. Hanbin’s left standing and staring and wondering what the fuck just happened. Then he realizes Junhoe never told him what time the party started, or if he should bring anything. Also, he really couldn’t tell if Junhoe was joking about the pepper spray.

 

Hanbin seriously considers not going, Junhoe seems a little crazy (there’s a definite possibility he’s actually a serial killer)  and he’s not sure he has the energy for a party. After sitting in his dorm for 40 minutes listening to his roommate hum distractedly under his breath and occasionally break into full on-very off key- song he decides that getting murdered might actually be more pleasant than this.

 

Since he’s still not sure when the thing was actually supposed to start he swings by a grocery store first and buys a six pack of cheap beer. He’s never been good at the whole college party’s thing and alcohol seems like the reasonable thing to bring.

 

He gets to the apartment by eightish, and the party is obviously already in full swing. He can hear the music from all the way down the hall.

 

He takes a deep breath, reminds himself it’s too late to back out now, and knocks on the door. There’s no response for a few minutes and Hanbin’s about to knock again when the door is opened by an obviously very drunk twenty something year old. He stares at Hanbin intensely and it’s about to cross the boundary between uncomfortable and creepy when he finally asks

 

“Do I know you?”

 

Hanbin scratches his head nervously

 

“Um, I’m Hanbin. Junhoe invited me…”

 

The guy looks confused for a few more seconds before his face lights up and he turns away from the door, yelling to someone inside.

 

“Hey Junhoe! Your weird art kid showed up!”

 

There’s a loud crash and a few moments later Junhoe appears.

 

“Told you so, you owe me 10,000 won.”

 

The first guy sticks his tongue out at Junhoe and disappears back into the apartment

 

Junhoe turns to him again.

 

“Glad you could make it, come on in.”

 

Hanbin smiles uncertainly and steps inside. The music is even louder in the apartment, thumping in his chest and drowning out any last minute doubts. It’s dimly lit but he can see the place is filled with people all dancing and drinking and laughing. If this is what Junhoe considers “low key” Hanbin is terrified to see what an actual party looks like. He awkwardly holds up the six pack

 

“I brought some beer. For the party.”

 

Junhoe smiles and grabs it from his hand before handing it to a random person passing by

 

“I’m sure they’ll enjoy it. Anyways, I should introduce you to my roommates. You already met Yunhyeong, he was the idiot at the door.”

 

Junhoe grabs his arm and starts to drag him through the mess of people into what Hanbin thinks is a living room. On the couch is a kind of nerdy looking guy who’s deep in discussion with a person Hanbin is 90% sure is asleep.

 

Junhoe gestures toward him

 

“That’s Donghyuk. Over there is Chanwoo.”

 

He points to a boy who looks like he shouldn’t be out of high school, let alone at this party who is mostly obscured by a group of girls.

 

“If you ever lose Chanwoo, just look for a huge crowd of chicks. They think he’s adorable for some reason. I personally don’t understand it.”

 

The music and the noise is getting to Hanbin and he’s suddenly reminded why he doesn’t like parties. Junhoe is saying something to him but he can’t really hear him, when he shoves a drink in his hands he downs it.

 

“Somewhere around here is Jinyeong, but I’m to lazy to find him.”

 

Another guy  comes up to them, the first person Hanbin has seen who actually looks relatively sober. He smiles at them and Hanbin can’t help but notice that he is a very attractive human being. He smiles back.

 

“Junhoe aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

 

Junhoe slaps him on the shoulder

 

“Of course. Jinhwan, Hanbin. Hanbin, Jinhwan.”

 

Jinhwan smiles again and Hanbin can feel the back of his neck start to heat.

 

“Nice to meet you Hanbin! Hope Junhoe hasn’t scared you off of us already?”

 

Hanbin’s just stammering out an answer when Jinhwan looks over his shoulder and sighs “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me but someone’s about to throw up in the chip bowl.”

 

And then he’s gone leaving Hanbin with a red face and about half a sentence. He turns to Junhoe.

 

“I think I need another drink”

 

Junhoe smiles and it scares Hanbin a bit.

 

“Alright then, lets find you one.”

 

Junhoe finds him another one. And another, and maybe three more after that and before Hanbin really knows what happened he’s half an hour into a discussion with Chanwoo about the pro’s and con’s of breakfast food for dinner (he’s starting to think these people are a little weird about the whole breakfast food thing) There’s a lull in the conversation Chanwoo appearing to have temporarily spaced out and Hanbin looks across the room. For a second he’s sure Jinhwan’s staring at him but then he turns and laughs at something the person next to him said and suddenly Hanbin isn’t sure of anything.

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

 

Hanbin ends up staying the night (meaning he passed out on the couch and nobody told him to go home) and by the time he wakes up the apartment is empty except for Junhoe and Yunhyeong. Yunhyeong is standing in the kitchen cooking bacon and the smell of it is making Hanbin a bit nauseous. He groans and buries his aching head in a pillow.

Junhoe walks out of the kitchen holding a mug of something. He pulls the pillow off of Hanbin’s head and shoves the mug into his hand. Hanbin looks at him incredulously.

“How do you look fine. You had way more booze than me last night…”

Junhoe just smirks.

“Drink up friend.”

Hanbin chugs the drink and while whatever’s in the cup tastes horrible it does make him feel slightly less like death. In any case the bacon actually starts smelling pretty good. When Yunhyeong walks out of the kitchen holding a tray of food Hanbin is relieved to see he looks as bad as Hanbin feels.

“Thank god, I was starting to think that you were all mutant freaks who don’t get hangovers.”

Yunhyeong hands Hanbin a plate of food and glares at Junhoe.

“I wish. Unfortunately we are not all blessed with his alcohol tolerance and must suffer through the morning after like mere mortals.”

After they finish breakfast Junhoe invites him to stay for a “low key” dinner. Hanbin looks at him suspiciously and asks

“Is this low key like last night because if so I don’t think I can handle another ‘low key’ anything.”

 

Yunhyeong laughs and assures him it will just be dinner and Hanbin says yes because it’s already three o’clock and he honestly feels so terrible he’s not sure he’d make it home without puking everywhere. And maybe he says yes because he remembers Jinhwan’s smile.

After that Hanbin spends a lot of time with Junhoe and his roommates. More than is probably good for his mental health, or his liver for that matter.

Yunhyeong and Chanwoo attend the same university as him, and Jinhwan and Donghyuk both go to the same school. All of them have some sort of part time job, which allows for the nice apartment. Junhoe isn’t in school, to quote him he ‘doesn’t need any of that education shit’  and as far as Hanbin can tell he doesn’t have a job either. He’s not really sure how Junhoe comes up with his share of the rent every month but it seems he always does and Hanbin’s decided it’s better not to ask where he gets the money.

They’re obviously a tight knit group, they talk and joke and touch with the easy familiarity of people who have known each other for a long long time (in a way they almost remind Hanbin of he and Jiwon) and they welcome him in.

He’s there for dinner one night, Donghyuk who is a surprisingly good cook is in the kitchen making some sort of pasta and the apartment smells of cream and herbs and wine. They eat in the living room curled into overstuffed  chairs and couches and listen to it rain.. Hanbin feels warm and comfortably full, maybe even a little tipsy. He feels content. Donghyuk’s regaling them with the story of how he almost got arrested trying to break into his own dorm room when Jinhwan and Yunhyeong exchange a glance. Jinhwan sets aside his plate and clears his throat

“Hanbin, we had a question for you.”

Yunhyeong continues on

“Jinyeong is moving out, so we’re going to have a spare room. Without him rent might get a little steep. We were wondering if you’d want to move in?”

Hanbin says yes without a second thought.

He settles into life in the apartment seamlessly. There’s work and school and when he’s not busy with those there’s always somebody around to spend time with and his life feels right in a way it hasn’t since Jiwon left. It’s funny how things change, how people change, how he changed. He thought he would never be whole again and maybe he isn’t yet but he’s getting there. He thinks about what Jiwon said:  ‘for every end there has to be another beginning’. Maybe this is his beginning.

As the days and months pass he falls in love. In love with a place and time and maybe even with a person.

He’s lying on the couch, watching some late night comedy show more asleep than awake. Everybody else went to bed a while ago so it’s just him and the muted noise of laughter coming from the tv. He’s just drifting off when he hears the creak of a door opening and soft footsteps across the living room floor. He doesn’t open his eyes until he feels a blanket being pulled over his shoulders. When he looks up he sees Jinhwan standing over him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Jinhwan’s  face is lit by the flickering of the screen behind him, blue light reflects off his hair. In the dark he looks like he looked that first night Hanbin met him, he remembers the feeling of eyes on his back from across the room and it sends shivers down his spine. With wondering hands Hanbin reaches up and traces the soft curves of his face, fingers falling down the side of his neck till they reach the collar of his shirt and there they rest. It feels like they’re moving through molasses, Jinhwan falling lower and lower till their faces are so close he can feel Jinhwan’s eyelashes brushing his cheek. The last centimeter is the slowest, both of them unsure of what comes next.

The kiss is actually a bit awkward, their noses in the way, cheeks pressing and bruising against each other. Jinhwan’s hovering over him, on arm on the back of the couch and the other pressing against the cushions. Hanbin reaches a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down beside him. It’s all very sexy till Hanbin rolls over onto the remote and accidentally turns the volume on the tv to full, it’s a minor miracle that no one wakes up. After the tv is off and the giggles recede they lay together, tucked into the curves of each others bodies and the silence is almost like a conversation.

When they wake up there’s light streaming through the window, birds chirping, and Yunhyeong and Donghyuk staring at them. Hanbin isn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or creeped out so he settles for somewhere in between. The first time he tries to speak he comes to the unpleasant realization that he somehow managed to get Jinhwan’s hair in his mouth sometime during the night. After he’s done hacking he croaks

“Have you guys just been standing there watching us sleep? Don’t you have anything better to do with your lives?”

Yunhyeong turns to Donghyuk who shrugs and says

“No, not really actually.”

Just when Hanbin thinks it can’t get anymore awkward Junhoe walks into the living room. He looks at the couch then turns to Yunhyeong.

“I fucking knew it. Cough it up, my friend.”

Yunhyeong sighs before begrudgingly reaching into his pocket and pulling two rumpled 10,000 won notes out of his wallet and slapping them into Junhoe’s hand. Hanbin watches the whole exchange feeling mildly horrified. Jinhwan’s sleepy voice sounds in his ear

“Were Junhoe and Yunhyeong making bets again? I told them to stop doing that…”

And Hanbin wonders not for the first time and probably not for the last whether it was a good idea to move in with these people who were quite obviously insane.

The first time he met Jinhwan it didn’t take his breath away, not like with Jiwon. If Jiwon is a forest fire then Jiwon is a candle. Jiwon’s all sharp edges and burning, consuming brightness. Jinhwan is soft and warm, like his mother’s hugs or a cup of coffee on a cold day. When he’s with Jinhwan it doesn’t feel like he’s drowning in him, it feel like he’s just enough. No, Jinhwan is nothing like Jiwon and maybe that’s why he loves him. (he doesn’t stop to think that just enough might not be enough after Jiwon)

He takes Jinhwan to sit with him on the roof once, and they watch the sunrise together. They’re huddled close in a blanket, and Hanbin can feel all the places their bodies touch like fire. Hanbin sit’s with his eyes closed and the sun warming his face and imagines he can feel the city’s beating heart. When he opens his eyes Jinhwan’s staring at him, an odd look on his face.

“You look like you’re remembering.”

Hanbin turns and laughs,

“Remembering what?"

Jung wan shrugs and waves his arm, gesturing to the city in front of them.

"All of...this. I guess. This moment."

"You know this is my first time in Seoul.”

“I know but still, there’s something… I don’t know, reflective. Like you’re thinking about something that happened a long time ago.”

Hanbin shakes his head and kisses him softly and thinks maybe in a way he is remembering.

And Hanbin is truly happy. With Junhoe and Yunhyeong and Donghyuk and Chanwoo. With their sunny apartment and his part time job at the bookstore down the street. He’s happy with Jinhwan. He’ll almost start to forget, forget about the hole in his heart, starts to wonder if he was ever really in love before now. And just when he starts to forget a letter will show up, worn and torn in his mailbox and as he reads it everything comes rushing back like a tidal wave and he’s drowning in Jiwon and he wonders how he ever could forget. Every time a letter comes he falls in love all over again.

Jinhwan watches him read one once, he must have been smiling like an idiot because Jinhwan asks

“Who is that from? Must be someone pretty important to you.”

“He’s an old friend from Uljin.”

And Hanbin doesn’t catch the sadness that flashes through Jinhwan’s eyes.

He comes home from work one day and finds the house empty except for Yunhyeong. Hanbin nods his greeting, throwing his keys and bag onto the counter before heading towards the bathroom for a shower. Yunheyong’s hand around his wrist stops him.

“Hey, can we talk for a second?”

His voice is quiet, almost hesitant. In Hanbin’s experience when people sound like that whatever comes next is never a good thing.

“It’s… It’s about you and Jinhwan.”

Hanbin swallows, feeling something heavy in his stomach.

“What about me and Jinhwan?”

And Yunhyeong’s looking at the floor, the ceiling, the picture of a cat with glasses Junhoe once drunkenly hung on the wall that nobody’s bothered to take down yet. He’s looking anywhere but Hanbin.

“Look Hanbin, you’re both my friends and I want you to be happy.”

(and inside his head Hanbin’s screaming that they’re happy, they’re both happy)

“It’s just lately… there’s just...are you sure there’s nothing wrong between you two?”

“Of course there’s nothing wrong, why would you even ask that?”

It’s a little snippy but the weight in Hanbin’s stomach is starting to feel a lot like panic, a lot like guilt. Yunhyeong’s face hardens a little

“Hanbin, look at me and tell me right now that the only person you’re in love with is Jinhwan. Tell me honestly. If you can do that I’ll let this drop.”

Hanbin looks at him and opens his mouth and the only thing he can think about is how even when he’s with Jinhwan he thinks about Jiwon.

A month passes and nothing happens. Yunhyeong throws him pointed glances and Hanbin avoids them and he and Jinhwan dance gracefully around the fact that maybe something is wrong. That Jinhwan looks a little sadder now, Hanbin doesn’t smile at him the way he used too.

It all comes crashing down eventually, as Hanbin knew it would. Its a friday night and for once nobody has class or work, so they’re hanging out at the apartment passing around a bottle of cheap vodka. Hanbin’s not drunk, not yet. He’s just tipsy enough that words fall clumsily off his tongue, that faces blur and shift in front of him. It’s fine, they’re all laughing and drinking and Chanwoo and Donghyuk are drunkenly having a rap battle which is honestly the funniest thing he’s seen in his life and he calls out, calls out for Jinhwan and the whole room freezes. He looks around in bewilderment

“What?”

and there’s silence for a moment. Then Donghyuk asks in a confused voice

“Who’s Jiwon?”

Hanbin’s throat goes dry.

“I didn’t say Jiwon, I said Jinhwan, didn’t I?”

Everybody shakes their heads slowly

“No, you definitely said Jiwon.”

Jinhwan stands abruptly and walks out of the room, not quite fast enough to be running not quite slow enough to be a walk. As he passes Hanbin sees something that looks a lot like grief on his face. He feels sick, hot and cold at the same time and all he can think is i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up. Hanbin stumbles to his feet (the world spins and okay he’s maybe a little drunker than he thought)  then he’s out the door after him tripping down the stairs.  He catches up with Jinhwan on the street outside the apartment. It’s cold, the sky is dark and starry and Hanbin can almost smell snow in the air. He’s running, running and shouting Jinhwan’s name and he knows he’s causing a scene but he doesn’t care. Jinhwan just keeps walking. He catches his wrist and swings him around and Jinhwan’s nose and cheeks are red and his eyes are glassy with tears and he just stares at Hanbin.

He kisses him hard and messy, open mouthed and searching like maybe this can hold them together and Jinhwan kisses him right back. Hanbin kisses him and feels the goodbye in it. Finally they pull away.

“I do love you, you know. That was never a lie it’s just that-”

JInhwan nods and smiles that gentle smile of his.

“I know it wasn’t. But I’ve seen the way you look when you read those letters. You still love that person- Jiwon,  too don’t you.” (and it’s not a question, not really)

Hanbin stares at the ground.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I always knew somehow I couldn’t have you forever. You were never quite really mine, were you. I loved you and was loved by you. Thats enough for me. If you love somebody else more-”

 

Hanbin interrupts him, because he needs him to know this. Needs Jinhwan to understand this.

“It’s not more or less. It’s just… It’s just different.”

_It’s always different with Jiwon._

__

Jinhwan smiles again and it makes Hanbin want to cry. When they kiss this time it’s soft and gentle and tender and Jinhwan runs his fingers across Hanbin's face like he's trying to remember it. And as Hanbin watches Jinhwan walk away he wonders that he can still want somebody so badly that he hasn’t seen in almost 5 years.

They’re still friends, after that. But things aren’t quite the same, Hanbin didn’t expect them to be. There’s a tension in the air between them that has nothing to with love and everything to do with broken hearts. A few months later Jinhwan moves out. He says it’s because of a new job offer, he wants a place closer to where he works, it’s too crowded in the apartment. And maybe all of those are a little bit true, but Hanbin knows deep down that it’s at least in part because of him. He feels guilty about it, Jinhwan lived here before Hanbin and he can’t help but feel that he’s taking a place not meant for him. He never wanted to force Jinhwan out. He brings it up with Junhoe once. It’s his turn to wash the dishes and Hanbin offers to help. Junhoe just sighs.

“Look, Jinhwan made his choice. Whether or not it had to do with you? Maybe, maybe not. But at the end of the day it’s his choice, and his life. You just have to keep on living yours.”

Hanbin stares at him a little shocked, Junhoe didn’t normally display this amount of emotional depth. Of course, it doesn’t last to long.

“But if you don’t get your ass in gear and help me finish these dishes you might not have a life to live.”

Hanbin smiles wryly and reaches over to grab a bowl.

Time passes quickly after that. His last year of University is here and gone before he knows it, graduation boring and long winded followed by a night of getting outrageously drunk with his friends. Poor Chanwoo wakes up in the bathroom with nothing but his boxers on. They later find the rest of his clothes hanging on the balcony of the apartment two floors down. He keeps working at the bookstore down the street, eventually working his way up the ranks to manager.

As the years pass they drift apart, as people do. One by one they leave the apartment to go home, start careers. They all stay in contact, sending silly pictures, updates on their lives. Yunhyeong likes to send everybody bad puns. When they have time or when somebody comes in from out of town they’ll meet up and have dinner or go out. He stay’s closest with Yunhyeong and Junhoe, they’re still in the old apartment and he’ll go and visit them often. The place feels a little bit empty without the other two but he has to admit it smells a lot better.

He dates a girl, Hayi for a little while. She’s pretty and stubborn and sings more beautifully than Hanbin could imagine. And he likes her, he really does. Likes her smile, the way her eyebrows crease when she’s thinking, likes the way she says his name like she’s telling him a secret. He likes Hayi a lot, but he doesn’t love her. He doesn’t love her and she knows and it hangs between them whenever they’re together. She eventually breaks up with him for being ‘distant’ as she says tearfully one night

"It's like you're looking at me and seeing someone else.”

He doesn’t try to stop her as she leaves.

Sometimes Hanbin thinks too much. Sometimes, when he can’t sleep and the darkness becomes suffocating instead of comforting he lays in bed and wonders. He thinks about all the chance that has gone into the moment he’s living now. If he hadn’t been sitting on that cliff he might have never met Jiwon or if he did it wouldn’t have been the same Jiwon he met that day. If he hadn’t been closing his eyes in the gallery when Junhoe walked by maybe he never would have stopped, never invited him to the party and just like that everything would be different. A flutter of eyelids could have changed his life. Jiwon told him once about this theory that there are infinite universes, for every choice you make there’s a world for it. If you go left somewhere there’s someplace you went right. He wonders what the universe where he never met Jiwon looks like, where he never moved to Seoul. If there’s a universe where Jiwon’s mother never died, where he never had to leave and there’s no shoebox full of letters sitting in his closet. He wonders if maybe in that world there’s two pale hands linked together, lips pressing tight underneath cherry blossom trees. But that’s always as far as he gets, any further and the hope starts to feel a little too much like pain. What ifs were always Jiwon’s thing anyways.

There’s a boy who works part time in the book shop, Minho, with dark eyes and a wide (flirtatious) smile. He’s a little awkward, a little shy and yet he seems so confident at the same time and he makes his interest clear with those smiles and hands that almost wander where they shouldn’t. They work late nights together, cataloging books and unpacking shipments and in the dark shop, when it’s just them and dusty paper there are moments where it would be so easy to lean forward and press their lips together, so easy to let those hands wander. But every time he’s tempted Hanbin remembers the look on Jinhwan’s face, Hayi’s teary eyes, remember the sound of Jiwon’s voice breaking as he whispers I’m leaving. Hanbin remembers and remembers that could doesn’t mean should.

He goes home for Chuseok every year, back to Uljn and his parents, to bare cherry trees against grey skies. Every year his father shakes his hand, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he smiles wide and bright at Hanbin . Every year his mother hugs him tight and asks him if he has a special someone, she wants grand kids before she’s 80 you know. Every time he smiles and shrugs and tells her there someone he’s a little bit in love with. It’s not exactly a lie after all.

He likes to get up early when he’s home, before the rest of the house. He wraps himself up in his dads old jacket and walks out towards the ocean, feet crunching in the fallen leaves and it feels a little like walking through memories. Hanbin stands there looking across the water till his fingers and face start to numb. Then he walks back, back to the warmth and light of his family and his home.

Jiwon seems to have settled down now, the letters coming consistently from an address in Virginia. He tells Hanbin he’s doing good, he has a steady job, a girl he thinks he’s in love with. He seems happy, there’s none of the sadness that tinged his earlier letters. And Hanbin is happy for him, he really is. But there’s a part of him that wonders why can’t Jiwon be happy here? Why can’t Jiwon be happy with him? And sometimes he wishes this would all stop. Wishes he had never met Jiwon, or wishes that Jiwon never left. Wishes he wasn’t trapped in wanting and wishing and dreaming and hoping for Jiwon. He’s starting to forget too. The sound of Jiwon’s laugh, the color of his hair when the light hit it just right, the way he smelled of sun and rain and home. All the memories in his head are starting to blur and fade no matter how hard he tries to cling to them.  There’s an ache somewhere deep inside of him and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to go on. In Jiwon’s next letter though, slipped into the middle like a question about the weather Jiwon writes

 

_I know it must be hard for you, I know it’s hard for me. But you’re one of the few constants in my life, Hanbin, and I don’t want to lose you. So please don’t give up on me._

He reads that and thinks maybe he can live like this.

Hanbin’s eating lunch with Junhoe in a Minimart down the street from the bookstore on his lunch break. They sit by the big windows in the front of the store that face the street and watch the world go by. Junhoe slurps his ramen obnoxiously and makes mildly judgemental comments about the people walking past.

“That guy looks like he’s going through a midlife crisis and decided to become an 80’s rapper”

The man in question is sporting a rather questionable dreadlocked hair do and one to many chunky gold necklaces. Hanbin snorts, and takes another bite of his kimbap. They eat in silence for a while, staring out the window.

“I feel like I’m living my whole life waiting.”

Junhoe gives him a sideways look.

“Waiting for what?”

Hanbin pushes the rice on his plate around and thinks about a box and a date written in thick black letters.

“I’m not sure. Just...something I guess.”

Junhoe finishes his ramen and pushes his chair back from the table stretching his arms over his  head.

“If you keep waiting for someone, or something to come along and change your life it’s gonna be more about waiting and less about living. Eventually you have to realize that the only one that can really change anything is you.”

Hanbin sits and eats and thinks maybe Junhoe is right (he remembers Minho, remembers all of the could have beens that almost were)  but he also thinks maybe some things are worth waiting for.

Ten years is a lot of time to fall out of love with a person. Ten years with nothing more but ink on paper would tear any two people apart. And sometimes it does, sometimes Hanbin hates Jiwon for leaving, for staying gone. Hates his treacherous heart that keeps on beating in time with somebody who’s an ocean and a world away. ] And God does it hurt sometimes. Some days he aches deep in his chest with a need to touch and feel and see (some days Jiwon is like breathing). But even when he hates Jiwon he loves him too. Even when he doesn’t think about Jiwon he loves him, it’s just a part of who he is. Hanbin is Hanbin, Hanbin is in love with Jiwon. When one stops being true so will the other.

On his 25th birthday Hanbin gets a letter. They’ve always managed to send each other something on their birthdays, no matter how busy they get or what country Jiwon’s in. There’s two things in the envelope: the letter which Hanbin reads with a grin on his face, and tucked behind it is a photograph. It’s of him and Jiwon, years and years ago. They’re sitting on a bench arms around each others shoulders, smiling so wide it hurts. Hanbin gave it to Jiwon in one of the many letters he sent after his mom died. On the back is written

_I think it’s time to come home._

Hanbin smiles and tucks the photo into the pocket of his jacket closest to his heart. (and he likes to think it’s because, in the end, Hanbin always was Jiwon’s home)

That’s the last letter he gets from Jiwon.

One day in early spring, when the cherry blossoms are just starting to bloom he puts in for the day off and takes the train to Uljin. He doesn’t bring anything except his backpack and a shoebox full of letters (full of a romance a decade in the making)

In a way he feels this was inevitable. Like the ins and outs of the tide, like hurricanes and floods and the monsoon season that comes every year. There is an immensity to this moment, years and lifetimes and seconds that could never lead to anything but this. Like planets they are caught in the orbit of each others lives, the rules of gravity bring them to this collision.

He stands by the ocean and waits. Jiwon is late, of course, but he’s waited 10 years. He can wait a little longer. The ground is rocky beneath his feet and all around is the sounds of seagulls and the gentle roar of the sea. The sky is so blue it almost hurts his eyes, and the spray of water crashing against the shore mists his face. There’s something frightening (something comforting) about the way the waves break against the spit, peaceful and powerful all at once. The sun is warm on his back and he feels apart from the rest of the world.

When Jiwon arrives he brings with him a wind that tugs at his hair and shirt. For a second he looks and sees a stranger. Someone a little older, a little sadder, a little wiser. The lines of the face are right, the same eyes and nose and lips but they don’t fit together quite the way they used too. His face is a puzzle that has too many pieces. There’s a cigarette tucked behind an ear, inky curling script just peaking out from the neckline of his shirt and for a moment he’s afraid. And then Jiwon smiles at Hanbin and it’s almost like the miles, the years between them never existed at all. Everything falls into place, like a song Hanbin forgot he knew until he heard it again.

“Jiwon.”

The shape of the word as he says it is familiar and foreign at the same time. (his name is a question and an answer all at once)

“Five seconds per centimeter, huh.”

Hanbin thinks of cherry blossoms floating on the wind. When he kisses Jiwon his lips taste like salt and sepia memories. The shoebox of letters fall from his hands and  white papers flutter and dance in the breeze like birds before falling into the ocean. He doesn’t need them anymore. And this time when Jiwon leaves, Hanbin leaves with him.

(Hanbin realizes it’s not about the ones who leave, it’s about the ones who come back)

****  
  
  
  



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